


A Favour or Two

by ashamedbliss



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Muse (Band)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Brothels, Dirty Talk, Forbidden Love, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostitution, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:05:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4006903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashamedbliss/pseuds/ashamedbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dominic of House Howard arrives in King's Landing, Littlefinger has a gift for him...</p><p>(essentially a Muse insertion fic. Set in the months/year or so before 1x01 of Game of Thrones. No spoilers past 1x01. As long as you know who Baelish and Cersei are, you'll be fine.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Favour or Two

**Author's Note:**

> Very little Game of Thrones knowledge is required. Baelish is a meddling man. Cersei is the queen and a bit of a bitch. That's it. Enjoy!

King’s Landing was hot and noisy, dust rising up from the roads and children scurrying around the lord’s horse. It plodded on through the city, slowly and surely down River Row from the Mud Gate, away from the smell of the fishmongers’ market and towards the great Red Keep, high above the rest of the city. The lord could feel eyes on his suit of armour and of the house sigil on his chest, a wild cat with its claws raised.

A baby brother to the roaring lion of Lannister, which suited him just fine.

“Lord Howard,” a voice like liquid honey called, and Dominic turned on his horse. The countryside was peaceful and did not demand wearing a helm, so he was easily recognised by his golden blond hair. The man calling him had black hair and a pointed beard, and a wicked smirk upon his face.

“Littlefinger,” Dominic said in return, nodding slightly. “You should know I don’t hold that title quite yet.” He coaxed his horse to a stop. “I suppose Varys informed you of my arrival,” he deadpanned.

Petyr Baelish tried to look offended, but the glint was still in his eyes. “I  _never_ ,” he said, placing a hand on his heart. “Dominic, sweet Dominic, in truth I am offended. But perhaps Varys forewarned me of your visit. A private meeting with the Queen, I hear? You are the envy of men all across the Seven Kingdoms.”

Dominic chose to dismount, then, in order to hide the blush that crept across his cheeks. Petyr, however, had a keen eye for body language.

“Dominic,” he said once more with a slight laugh, and the young lord shivered lightly at the sound of his name in the mouth of the Master of Coin, perhaps one of the most powerful men in Westeros. “I don’t need Varys to tell me that your meeting with Cersei is strictly business. For one thing, she only opens her legs to one blond relative, and secondly I know you aren’t persuaded by the sweet warmth of a woman’s cunt.”

Dominic’s eyes flashed with anger as he passed the reins of his horse to the awaiting stable boy, striding closer to the smirking man. “Try not to make my business the gossip of King’s Landing, Littlefinger,” Dominic warned. “Or I will see that my father has your head.”

Petyr laughed, leaning back against the stone wall of the building behind them. “Oh, Dominic. Try as you might, but you are no Lannister, regardless of how cosy the mighty Lord William is with Lord Tywin.” Dominic huffed but had nothing to say. “Have you taken care of your  _business_ , then?”

Dominic’s eyes narrowed, his right hand falling naturally to rest on the hilt of his sword. “What do you mean?” he asked quietly, as a small urchin ran between the two men, laughing.

“Oh, you know...” Petyr said, smirk growing impossibly. “Have you taken a man to bed, yet? Or has it all been failed attempts at taking the maidenheads of the girls sent to your chamber by your father?”

Dominic seethed, fingers wrapping around the golden hilt of his sword as he stepped forward. He was speechless, though, because each one of Littlefinger’s words were true.

“I want to help you,” Petyr said softly. Dominic scoffed.

“There’ll be a cost, then,” he replied curtly.

Petyr shook his head, the smirk slipping off his face for the first time in their conversation. “I owe your mother a favour or two, the sweet lady she was. May she rest in peace.”

“And so, your belated gift to my mother is buying me precious time with a whore?” Dominic hissed, looking up and down the street.

“Oh, not just any old whore. I run a series of establishments in this fine city, you see,” Petyr said, smiling once more. “I have the perfect whore for you, dear Dominic. He is perhaps one of the most accomplished men of his...  _trade_ this side of the Narrow Sea.”

Dominic swallowed thickly at the thought. “Well...” he drawled, contemplating, posture and tone relaxing. “I did arrive ahead of time. Cersei is not expecting to receive me until morrow morn... I could...”

“Excellent,” Petyr said, ushering Dominic into the building he had been leaning against. It was cool and relatively quiet, and Dominic’s eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. The few noises he could hear sent tingling sensations throughout his body as they echoed down the long hall, drapes and curtains sectioning off what Dominic presumed to be a maze of rooms.

“This is my finest establishment,” Petyr said, no effort made to conceal the pride in his voice. Their steps echoed as they moved through the building, scantily clad whores and more fully clothed maids passing them on both sides. Neither man’s eyes wandered from the door at the very end of the corridor. “Thus, it contains my finest whores. The boy you’ll--”

“ _Boy?_ ” Dominic gasped. “Seven Hells, no! I cannot lie with a  _boy_ .”

“Dominic, you are only of nineteen years yourself. Relax,” Petyr drawled. “The  _boy_ is seventeen, and incredibly skilled in giving pleasure to little lordlings like yourself. Matthew has been in my care for two years now; an orphan he was, poor thing.” Something akin to pity flashed across Petyr’s eyes.

“One of Varys’ many little birds found him scrounging for food in Fleabottom. Varys did take a liking to him himself... of course, he did no harm to the boy as you must know. But he thought he was simply too... how did he put it? Ah yes. Too  _pretty_ to starve to death. He learnt very quickly, did little Matthew. I am sure he enjoys his work more than some of my women do.”

Dominic nodded tightly, as Baelish stopped at the door and gestured towards it, a small smile on his face. “Dominic, my humble guest, you are welcome to spend as long as you like behind this door. Although, should you wish, I would be honoured to sup you later. Matthew is awaiting you,” he said, promptly turning on his heel and heading back down the long corridor.

Dominic took a deep breath in, running his hands through his hair, fluffy and dirty from a long day of riding on the dusty country roads. He could do with a bath before he took this Matthew to bed, although he wondered if it was simply because he wanted to put off the task at hand.

He couldn’t deny that the thought of finally being able to have his way with a man  _did_ make his cock twitch in his breeches, but it made him blush to think that he would be entirely inexperienced compared to Matthew. His fumblings with women only went to strengthen his lack of confidence in the bedchamber.

Swallowing hard, Dominic pushed the heavy door open without a second thought.

The chamber was large, the four poster bed dominating the space but by no means filling it. It was covered in golden drapes and the bed linen was white, the rich palette spreading around the room in forms of tapestries and other fine items. Dominic’s own bedchamber wasn’t nearly as richly decorated as this, and it was the last thing he expected to find in a whorehouse.

The real treasure in the room, though, was the man standing at the table directly in front of him.

Dominic couldn’t see his face, as the man had his pale back turned to him, muscles moving as his arms stretched in front of him. He wore a thick leather belt, dark brown, slung low enough on his hips that Dominic could see the dimples at the base of his spine. From the belt hung two wide strips of rich sapphire veil, which billowed down his legs, caught at his ankles by cuffs matching the belt.

All in all, Dominic thought he was gorgeous. And he hadn’t even seen his face yet.

The man was stood over a bowl of water, splashing it onto his face as he bent forwards slightly. As Dominic shut the door behind him, the other man stopped his movements, resting his hands on the table either side of the bowl.

“My lord,” the boy said quietly, lowering his face towards the floor. His voice sounded somewhat unsure, and his accent was southron, like Dominic’s own. The lord swallowed thickly.

“Look at me,” he commanded, and the man before him turned around.

The first thing Dominic noticed was how beautifully his chestnut hair contrasted with his face, just as pale as the rest of him. His eyes were lowered for a beat until they flicked upwards to meet Dominic’s, and the lord found himself inhaling sharply as the sapphire blue caught him and held him in place. They matched the veils that snaked down the man’s long, lean legs.

“Your name is Matthew, correct?” Dominic asked, as his eyes traced over the small, thin mouth the man had, and how he was so lean that his ribs and the muscles of his stomach were shown just so, and how his cock hung long and heavy between his legs, barely concealed by the thinnest piece of blue veil hanging from the belt.

“Yes, m’lord,” he said quietly. Dominic’s cheeks continued to heat as he saw Matthew’s eyes drag up and down his body, weary and dirtied by the road as it was. He didn’t quite have the heart to tell Matthew that he wasn’t technically a lord yet, enjoying the appraisal as it was. “Would my lord like a bath?”

“Yes,” Dominic said, nodding as Matthew gestured into the far corner of the room, a curtain drawn across it. He crossed the room, pulling back the golden curtain and revealing a large tub, golden and ornate and full of steaming water. Dominic’s muscles ached for it, almost as much as he himself ached for Matthew. Dominic made towards the tub, greeted halfway by the whore.

“If it please you, m’lord,” he said quietly, reaching towards the buckle of Dominic’s sword belt, round at his hip. Dominic nodded, or perhaps stuttered out his agreement; he simply forgot as he watched long, nimble fingers work on the buckle, lifting away the belt and sword and laying them on a nearby dresser. Matthew moved to stand directly in front of him, Dominic’s head tipping backwards and watching down his nose as Matthew reached for the clasps on his shoulders. The boy was a hair smaller than him, but with those sapphire eyes and those thin lips so close, Dominic was fully aware of how his body was reacting to such a stimulus. One of those beautiful fingers touched the bare skin of his neck as he switched shoulders, and he barely repressed the shiver that followed.

Matthew’s undressing of him did, in fact, please the lord.

His cloak fell to the floor in a noisy rush, and Matthew quickly shed him of all his plate armour, leaving him in his gambeson. Dominic watched Matthew’s lips quirk upwards as he began on the dainty knots that held closed his gambeson. “Someone dressed you well, m’lord,” he said quietly.

“I wasn’t planning on being undressed so well, either,” Dominic quipped in reply, Matthew meeting his gaze as he pulled open the gambeson, his hands brushing Dominic’s stomach. A skittish breath left the lord.

Matthew’s hands glanced Dominic’s torso as they moved to his shoulders, pushing the gambeson off and down his arms but this time his touch was purposeful, burning a trail down the inside of his arms, right down to his wrists. Dominic could feel the heat of Matthew’s skin even through the undershirt he wore.

“I won’t make it to the tub if you keep touching me like that,” Dominic said quietly as Matthew lowered himself to his knees, his hands trailing all the way down Dominic’s body to unlace his riding boots. Dominic stepped out of them one at a time as Matthew looked up to reply.

“Would you rather me not touch you at all, m’lord?” he asked in such an innocent tone, batting his eyelashes as he looked up at Dominic from his knees. The lord saw that his own breeches hardly concealed his erection, and that Matthew was already at half-hardness.

Matthew didn’t wait for a response as his fingers, spidery as they were, danced their way back up to the fastening of Dominic’s breeches, pulling the cord apart and peeling the tight fabric down his sweat-covered skin. Dominic gasped quietly as Matthew laid a kiss his thigh, eyes locked with his and begging for approval. He laid another, and then another, blazing a trail up towards Dominic’s crotch as Matthew pushed the breeches all the way down. Suddenly, Matthew broke away and gestured for the lord to step out of his breeches, albeit on wobbling legs.

“Do you have any wine?” Dominic asked, as Matthew rose to his feet again. Matthew nodded, gracefully stepping around the lord to a table by the large window. He poured one cup, before Dominic added, “pour yourself one too.”

Matthew did as instructed, offering Dominic his cup and maintaining eye contact with the lord as he drank. Satisfied, Matthew licked his thin lips with a small smirk as Dominic watched on helplessly, feeling quite out of his depth. Matthew took his hand lightly, drawing him across the room towards the bath. Dominic lifted his arms as Matthew took the hem of his undershirt up over his head; his nose traced Dominic’s side, lingering in his armpit for a second as he came up to his full height.

“You have a beautiful body,” Matthew whispered, standing before Dominic. The lord let his hands fall to Matthew’s hips.

“I could... say the same,” Dominic said, looking down the line of Matthew’s flat chest to his erection under the thin blue veil, and his own standing proud. He swallowed thickly.

“Will you kiss me, my lord?” Matthew asked sweetly, and Dominic found himself lost in those blue eyes once more. How could he refuse? He leant forward and pressed his lips against Matthew’s, who let out a high-pitched whine at the contact. Taking control, Dominic’s left hand reached up to cup Matthew’s jaw, relishing in the feeling of slight stubble beneath his fingertips. He pulled Matthew closer with his other hand, and their erections brushed through the veil Matthew wore, the sensation foreign but wonderful. Dominic rolled his hips instinctively, and Matthew choked out a moan. “The bath... will go cold,” he whispered against Dominic’s lips, the lord sighing and releasing the whore.

Dominic gingerly put one foot in the water, finding it to be the perfect temperature. He hastily climbed into the tub, settling himself down in the water and sighing happily as the warmth lapped at his body. He held his nose and let himself slide under the water completely, letting the dust drift away from his hair and skin, resurfacing moments later to deeply inhale the incensed air of the brothel once more. Straight away, Matthew was soaking a washcloth in the water, before placing it on Dominic’s back and beginning to scrub lightly. “You are so muscled, you must train with the sword every day,” Matthew said, a tone of awe in his voice as the washcloth passed over the expanse of Dominic’s back. He then moved on to his arms. “Your arms too. How many times a day do you practice?”

“Every other day, usually with one of my younger brothers,” Dominic said, Matthew moving into view as he walked around the tub to scrub Dominic’s torso.

Matthew’s lips curled up in a smile as he abandoned his washcloth in the water, his hand now gripping Dominic’s filling erection. The lord started, sloshing water over the sides of the tub. “And how often do you practice with _this_ sword?”

Dominic gasped for air, having never had another man’s touch on his privates, the doomed girls that fell into his bed not quite knowing how to grip it just right. “Every... every morning. And sometimes in the evenings, too... especially when...”

Matthew kneeled down at the side of the tub, hand continuing to loosely pump Dominic in the water, Dominic’s fingers twitching where they rested on the edges of the tub. “Yes?” Matthew breathed into his ear, and it was nearly too much for Dominic.

“Smith give me strength, if I’m not to throw you onto the bed and fuck that little arsehole of yours right this minute,” Dominic rushed to say before he lost the confidence to do so. Matthew bit at his bottom lip for a moment, before he grinned wolfishly.

“I think your bath is done, my lord.”

Matthew rose and turned to retrieve a towel as Dominic stood up in the tub, feeling much less nervous than before. His cock jutted from his body, and as Matthew beckoned Dominic out of the tub to dry him, Dominic realised he enjoyed this new sense of worth, the confidence he felt around this boy. Matthew dried his cock delicately, as if it were a precious relic, before he harshly scrubbed dry the rest of Dominic’s body, standing on the balls of his feet to dry his hair somewhat.

Dominic snatched the towel from him, throwing it down on the floor. “Enough,” he said, not recognising the snarl of his own voice, before he pulled Matthew close for a bruising kiss. The boy whimpered, pressed against him from torso to knees. Dominic’s hand went to the flesh of his arse, not covered by the meagre veil, and as he massaged it with one hand the boy mewled, letting his mouth be plundered by Dominic’s tongue.

“Please, my lord,” he begged as he broke for breath. “Take me. Fuck me. Make me your first.”

With a low growl in his chest that he did not know he was capable of, Dominic took Matthew by the wrist and pulled him across the room again, pushing him down face first onto the bed. He quickly straddled the boy’s thighs, groaning as his cock fit perfectly into the cleft of Matthew’s arse.

He needed oil, if his experiments with his fingers up his own arse were anything to go by. Matthew was watching him over his shoulder with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, and when their eyes met, he knew exactly what his lord needed. Matthew reached for the small table at the bedside, his buttocks moving under Dominic’s cock and giving him the most beautiful friction. Matthew returned, propped up on his elbows as he gave a vial of oil to Dominic. “Stretch me nice and wide, m’lord. Make me _beg_ for it.”

Dominic did not know how Matthew learnt to make him burn with every single word, but he did not dwell on it. Instead, he took a pillow from the top of the bed, moving to put it under Matthew’s stomach, his legs still clad in the veils but Dominic now too far gone to bother with the buckles and cuffs. He sat between Matthew’s legs, his beautiful arse high in the air and Dominic admired it, the shaved skin smooth and exposing his tiny pink pucker, the treasure at the end of this torturous quest.

Biting his lip, Dominic poured a generous amount of the oil onto the fingers of his left hand, before upending the rest of it over Matthew’s hole. The boy giggled. “My lord, that vial alone costs ten gold dragons.”

Dominic smirked, working a finger into Matthew’s hole, satisfied with the clenching of muscles that followed. For a whore, he seemed to be exceptionally tight. “Matthew, people will be _paying_ ten gold dragons just to see your wrecked little hole after I’m done with you.”

Matthew moaned and then sighed, falling forward onto his elbows and pushing back against Dominic’s finger. “More,” he demanded like the wanton whore he was, and Dominic could only give. He added another finger, beginning to crook them until Matthew was whining beneath him, rocking back onto Dominic’s hand. Dominic braced himself with a hand in the small of Matthew’s back, sweat already collecting there.

He added a third finger, listening to the squelching noises of Matthew’s clench and enjoying how truly debased it was. “Look at you, trying to devour my fingers with your little man-cunt,” Dominic found himself saying, Matthew gasping beneath him, arching his back. “You look like a cat in heat. Are you ready for my cock?”

“Please, oh, please, my lord, I need it so much, please--”

Dominic removed his fingers, watching curiously as Matthew’s hole tried to grasp at empty air. “Filthy,” he said, reaching around with his slicked hand to give Matthew’s cock a tug. The boy shuddered, keening loudly. “Don’t you dare come until I tell you to.”

Matthew merely whimpered in response, precome already dripping from his cock onto the sheets below. Dominic lined himself up with Matthew’s arse, hardly believing that he was finally going to realise his fantasy of taking a man as his own. He pushed forward, gripping Matthew’s hips with an intensity that might leave bruises, pausing with just his cockhead inside the pliant body beneath him as he listened.

Matthew had his face pressed into the bed sheets, mewling sounds and harsh breathing filling the room with noise. When he registered that Dominic had paused, Matthew whined loudly and pressed backwards, sighing as more of Dominic’s length sank into his body.

“You harpy. You _slut_ ,” Dominic said, tipping his head back and feeling a drop of sweat roll over his Adam’s apple. He sank another inch into Matthew’s willing body, and he felt as if he was on fire, that flames would consume him and Matthew both. Gritting his teeth, he pushed into Matthew until he was fully seated, and he felt whole for the first time in his life. “Gods be _good_ ,” he groaned.

“Please,” Matthew moaned, his voice hitching on the word, as if Dominic’s cock was so deep in his body it was affecting his speech. Slowly, testing himself, Dominic pulled out before thrusting back in, and Matthew came alive underneath his hands. His every muscle tensed before he became a ragdoll, sprawled on the bed and moaning, whispering, begging for _more_.

Dominic loved it.

He drove into Matthew without mercy, until he was panting and Matthew was unable to take a breath without it being a gasp for air, like a drowning man trying to stay afloat. The friction where they were joined was almost painful, the slow drag of Matthew’s body against Dominic’s cock as he held onto that which gave him pleasure. Dominic leaned down, covering Matthew’s lithe body with his own, pushing him further into the mattress with every thrust, the snapping of his hips his only god now, never mind the Seven.

“Come.”

Matthew cried out, fisting his hands in the bedsheets as he spilled onto them, his hole clenching hungrily around Dominic’s cock as he did so, driving his lord to his own climax. Dominic shouted as he did so, not quite knowing what he said but knowing it was the strongest orgasm of his life, getting off knowing that his seed was spilling inside Matthew’s channel. Matthew collapsed underneath Dominic, Dominic following him and falling heavily onto Matthew’s back, the boy exhaling sharply.

Seconds later, the boy giggled. It was a short titter at first, but then it developed into a quiet peal of laughter that made the corners of Dominic’s mouth twitch. “I hope you aren’t laughing at my prowess,” he said deeply, right into Matthew’s ear.

Matthew shivered. “No, my lord. I... You shocked me. Those who have not lain with a man before are timid and shy. You were neither of those things.”

Dominic pressed a sweaty kiss to Matthew’s shoulder. He could feel himself softening inside the boy, but he didn’t mind the sensation. “And you sounded like you were being taken for your first ever time. Tell me, how many men have you lain with?”

Matthew turned slightly, showing Dominic his smile. “None as good as you, my lord.”

A lie or not, Dominic was willing to believe it. He fell asleep like that, buried in Matthew’s body, before he was woken an hour later by the boy trying to fuck himself on Dominic’s hardening cock.

Dominic could hardly blame him.

*

The next morning, as the sun peeked over the horizon of the city, Matthew kissed Dominic at the entrance to his bedchamber, before he released his lord into the dawn. Dominic, freshly washed and thrice more sated, had a spring in his step as he made his way back to his horse, and up to the Red Keep. He was served breakfast from the sprawling kitchens, and shortly after was led to Queen Cersei’s solar, where she was awaiting him.

“Dominic,” Cersei said softly as Dominic entered, the lord taking her outstretched hand and kissing it as a gesture of kindness. She was an intimidating woman, especially when she was quiet. “I heard whispers that you spent the night in a brothel, in the company of a man,” she said frostily.

Dominic, bolstered with a newfound confidence when he thought of Matthew, stood up straight. “My Queen, I don’t think it is in your place to concern yourself with whispers. After all, many more of them are about you.”

Cersei looked at Dominic as if she could not decide if she was amused or offended. He sat down opposite her at the table, crossing his legs. He put a scroll down on the table between them, sealed with the crest of House Howard. “Now that we’ve both acknowledged our flaws, may we begin?”

Dominic could’ve sworn the corner of Cersei’s mouth twitched in a smile, and he silently thanked Matthew for everything, and more.


End file.
